The Three B's of a Hangover
by sportsnightnut
Summary: "You are a saint," he mumbled, letting the steam rise from the cup into his nostrils. "I mean it, Leesh, an honest-to-god saint." A fluffy Georgetown-era one-shot.


**A/N:** Hi everyone! I'm heading out tomorrow for my birthday weekend trip, so I thought I'd post a little something to tide you over until I return and can update some of my other in-progress fics. This is just a little fluffy Georgetown-era one-shot. It may eventually become part of a longer work about this time in their lives, but I'm still working on developing my own canon for the Georgetown days, so it's a one-shot for now.

Hope you enjoy-have a great weekend!

p.s. I don't think we've ever seen Will wear glasses or have any indication that he does, but I just think it sounds adorable so I put it in there. :)

**Disclaimer:** Will and Alicia don't really belong to me. I just like to pretend they do.

* * *

Will groaned and attempted to lift one of his heavy eyelids just enough to see what time it was. The digital clock's red numbers glowed back at him: 10:47. He pawed around blindly for his glasses on the nightstand; he didn't remember taking his contacts out the night before, but he knew he must have, because he couldn't make out much of anything farther away than the clock. His fingers grazed the plastic frames and he shoved them on his face, thankful that he could at least see, even if he was still completely disoriented.

The bed was way comfier than his, the pillowcase much softer, and everything around him was clean. And smelled nice. Kind of like lavender and clean laundry and...Alicia.

_Her apartment_. _Right._

But Alicia was, oddly, nowhere to be seen. He saw the sheets crumpled on her side of the bed, and he reached over; the mattress was still a little warm, so he knew she couldn't have gone far, or too long ago.

The door was slightly ajar, just enough that Will could hear some indistinct noises happening outside it. He thought he heard the sounds of her coffeemaker, but he wasn't positive. It was time to investigate.

Will swung his legs over the bed and his feet hit the fuzzy rug placed neatly on the floor. He ran his fingers through his brown locks, hoping he'd achieved that early-morning-just-a-little-tousled-but-not-so-much-it-looked-ridiculous hair.

As he opened the door, he saw Alicia standing in the kitchen in the same tank top and shorts in which she'd gone to bed last night. Her long, wavy hair was tucked behind her ears, and he watched her stand on her tiptoes to remove something from the cabinet above her head, admiring the way the motion elongated her legs and tightened her thighs.

It was enough to make him forget how hard his head was pounding.

"Morning," she said, turning around at the sound of his footsteps. She smiled sweetly. "How ya feelin?"

Will groaned again. "Like someone hit me repeatedly over the head with that really heavy torts textbook over there."

They surveyed the room together: it was still covered in flash cards, ripped pieces of notebook paper, textbooks, pens, highlighters, and discarded coffee cups. Their 1L final exams had just concluded the day before, resulting in a night of copious drinking afterward.

(The empty bottle of tequila nearby explained the way Will's head was feeling.)

Alicia pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and shook three ibuprofen out of a large bottle and onto the counter, gesturing for him to take it.

He swallowed the pills with a sip of water, smiling gratefully at her. She returned the smile as Will took a seat on the stool across from where she stood.

"I have a guaranteed hangover remedy," she announced as he watched her move around the kitchen, pulling ingredients from various places.

"Does it involve going back to sleep?" he asked, head in his hands.

"No," Alicia replied, as the metal mixing bowl made a gentle clanging sound on the counter. "It's the three B's of a hangover: black coffee, bacon, and banana pancakes."

Will's stomach rumbled at the thought of food as he watched her whisk milk and eggs in one bowl and measure flour and other dry stuff into another. She poured the wet mixture into the dry, then whisked for a few seconds before gently folding in the mashed bananas. He loved the way she held the bowl close to her chest as she stirred, as if she was very protective of its contents.

After the batter was poured into pancake form, she laid a few strips of bacon into the other skillet, then turned to grab mugs for coffee. She placed one of the mugs in front of Will, and he wrapped his hands around the hot ceramic as he pulled it closer to him.

"You are a saint," he mumbled, letting the steam rise from the cup into his nostrils. "I mean it, Leesh, an honest-to-god saint."

She laughed-that gorgeous, honeyed, Alicia Cavanaugh laugh-and even though the loud noise hurt his head a little, he wished she'd never stop.

It was the sweetest sound in the world.

Alicia flipped both the pancakes and bacon, then returned to her spot across the counter from him, leaning on it with her elbows. She reached for the mug in front of her and began to sip the coffee.

Will stared at her, partially because he couldn't stop admiring her-the way her eyes looked more hazel than green in the late morning light, the way her hair fell around her face as she leaned on the counter, the way she smiled when those first drops of coffee touched her lips-but also because he was confused. Really, really confused.

"How are you not this hungover?" he asked suspiciously. "If I remember correctly, although I suspect I may not remember _everything_ about last night correctly-"

She giggled. _Oh, god, that laugh_. "-you were the one drinking most of the tequila, missy."

Alicia grinned as she sauntered over to the stove, scooping the first batch of pancakes out of the skillet and offering them to Will on a plate. "I never said I wasn't hungover," she replied. "I'm just really good at pretending."

Will wouldn't realize the full extent of that truth until nearly fifteen years later.


End file.
